Of My Dreams

“Yo, come on, Earth to Damon!” Someone shouted, their hot breath tickling my ear. I was startled, nearly falling off my chair.

“Whaa!?” I looked around, “Aw, Wes, do you have to do that? Honestly, if I go deaf, it will be your fault.”

I glared at my blonde haired obnoxious best friend in annoyance. He smirked goofily, shrugging. “Hey, you will never guess who is here,” Wes said excitedly.

“Here?” I looked around at the secluded deck. “As in the party?”

“No, I mean as in here in not at the party,” he said sarcastically, “Really, dude, how out of it are you when you’re in La La Land? But seriously, guess who is here!”

“Who?”

“No, guess!”

“Dr. Seuss,” I said, trying to hint that I didn’t really care.

Wes’s eyes lit up, “No, but I bet we’d have a fucking good time with that good ol’ Cat in the Hat here. I love myself some girl in a sexy hat wearing a costume nearly showing off her_”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I cut Wes off, knowing exactly what choice word he was going to use, “Just tell me who is here.”

“Sonya! That hot chick from last week’s cook out. Rocking body, long blonde hair, chest like, damn! Remember her?” He looked at me hopefully.

“I’m surprised you do. You were completely wasted.”

Wes just grinned and memorized the cook out that involved a lot of girls in small bikinis, “Oh yeah, that was a good time,” Once he snapped back into the present, he gave me a sporting looking, “As I was saying, Sonya is here! And she’s wearing one of those really hot, short dresses. And she brought a group of her friends, all sophomores I think, but there’s a good selection.”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head, “Dude, not tonight. I’m not interested. In fact, I’m not feeling very well.”

“Oh, that’s crap! These girls are totally worth it. Once you step into the room, practically all the girls drool over you. You’re a hot commodity, and not a single girl I know wouldn’t want to get with the hottest senior of the student body. And none of them are looking for more than a quick bang and a chance to say they got with you even just once over the summer. It will be worth it, even for just tonight.”

“Because that really made me feel better,” I said pointedly as I turned away from Wes and looked out over the ocean.

“What are you here for if not for hot chicks?” Wes demanded.

“I’m here because you dragged me along,” I reminded him as I stared at the crashing waves on beach across the street, “And anyway, what are you here for? Beer and sex? Do you have no decency?”

I didn’t hear him come up behind me, but I felt a quick blow to the back of my head. I lifted my hand to the injury and cursed under my breath. I turned around to look at Wes’s smug face; he was clearly very proud of himself for slapping me. “Dude, I cannot believe you of all people are going to turn down a couple of hot chicks. I mean really, what has gotten into you tonight?”

“I told you already, I’m not feeling well,” I replied in a harsh tone. A few minutes of silence between the two of us and then I softened my voice, “Besides I’m done with just ‘fooling around’ as you put it. You’re right; there are girls who are only here for a one-night stand. But that’s a very small percentage of them. Unlike you, I’ve caught on to something. Girls don’t like it when guys toy with their feelings, go in for the buzzed hook-up, and then forget it even happened. Girls are sensitive, and when their feelings are hurt, well, things get messy. And I mean, it gets really messy. Well, I’ve dealt with the girls whose hearts I’ve unintentionally broken. Like I said, it’s a messy business. And I’m done with it.”

Wes stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to comprehend what I had just said, but then he smirked and pointed at me, “Faggot!”

“Wes, cut it out,” I took a step toward him, thinking about slapping him in the back of the head as retribution for what he had done, and the comment.

“Don’t come any closer to me!” Wes backed away slowly, “I don’t want you to rub your gay-ness all over me!”

“Really, Wes, you are so immature,” I rolled my eyes and retreated back to the edge of the deck to look out at the ocean, “All I am saying is that I don’t want to date around with girls. I just want to get to know one girl and date only one girl…at a time. There’s a lot less damage in that plan, and besides imagine if you were the girl.”

“Imagine if I was the girl?” Wes faked panic, “That is not helping your case right now!”

Irritated, I threw a half-empty cup of beer at Wes and nicked him on the shoulder with the liquid. “Get your head out of the gutter, I’m not gay.”

Wes laughed and rejoined me by the rail of the deck. He slapped me on the back and then ruffled my hair, “I was just messing with you, Damon. It’s one of my favorite pastimes before I’m totally wasted.”

“I’ve begun to notice,” I smirked as I punched him in the arm.

“Whatever,” Wes shrugged and took a whiff of his wet shirt, “I smell like beer, thanks to you. Now, I think I want some. I’m going back into the party, you coming with?”

Grudgingly, I nodded, letting him lead me from my hiding place on the surprisingly deserted deck. Music boomed in the room through large speakers. The girl from school, who threw this party, clearly watched one too many MTV soaps that involved parties. Her party was completely generic, even down to the large kegs and the red plastic cups.

In order to get a drink at the in-home bar, I had to cross the make-shift dance floor which was a jungle within itself. Bodies swayed to the beat of the music within tight proximity of each other. I was nearly out of the mass when a peppy redhead, probably an underclassman by the look of her, scooted up next to my body.

She stared up at me with huge grey eyes under dark applications of make up and started moving her body only a breath away from mine. Unable to resist, I danced along with her, allowing her eyes to hypnotize me, my hands traveling up and down from her waist, to her hips, to her ass, and up again. She was getting really into it, with her lips brushing along my neck, her hand in my hair. And quickly, she spun around and wrapped her arm around my neck while brushing her backside along all the right regions. I groaned and closed my eyes.

And then immediately opened them again. Angry with myself, I waited until the nameless girl unlatched herself from me, and I took off before she could turn around to realize I’m gone.

“Crap,” I muttered under my breath, as I left the dance floor, hoping that Wes hadn’t seen me dancing. Otherwise, the whole speech I made to him would be nothing. I had meant what I said on the deck. However, being wrapped up in the moment, I easily forgot what I had promised myself.

I was done with accepting that girls throw themselves in my general direction and using it to my advantage. Sure, the girl on the dance floor seemed open and seductive, but I was willing to bet that the next time I saw her_ whether it be at the beach or when school starts_ she’d be shy and trying to drop hints about that “moment” we shared. Oh God, and then she would be upset because I was just fooling around.

I wanted to seriously kick myself in the ass…especially when I saw Wes grinning at me from the bar. I walked over to him reluctantly. It was safer than waiting around for the redhead to find me.

“You little shit!” Wes pounded me, “Not feeling well, my ass! I saw you dancing. So how was it? Is your blood boiling now? Are your pants suddenly uncomfortable?”

The fifteen year-old girl who was handing out beers looked up at me with interested eyes. I turned to Wes and spoke through clenched teeth, “Shut up before I have to kill you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Wes finished off his beer and looked at the bar-girl, “Hey, Gigi, can you give me another one? Thank you, Sweetheart.” Wes, very skillfully, ripped off the bottle cap with a quick bite of his teeth, and spit it out at the trash can, missing, “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, Mr. Designated Driver. Boy, I don’t envy your job.”

Gigi glanced at me from over the counter and then leaned up against it, revealing her ample amount of cleavage. “So, Damon,” she purred, “What’s your preference? Light or straight up?

“You got any cans of Coke back there?” I said, managing to ignore her suggestive glances.

“You want a Rum Coke?” She took out the rum first.

“No, I want a regular Coke,” I repeated impatiently, “Remember, I’m the designated driver.”

“Oh right,” Gigi attempted to make it look sexy as she pulled out a Coke can from the mini fridge behind her, “Wes says you’re like one of the good guys.”

She dangled the can in front of me, “You know, Wes doesn’t do you justice. You’re much cuter than he had me believe when he first spoke of you.”

“Oh, so you know Wes,” I thought that if I attempted to give her a bit of conversation, she would hand me my soda. She didn’t.

“Oh, I know Wes,” she giggled as she wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

“Of course, you do,” I shook my head briefly at one of the many catches that Wes had claimed, “Look; can I have my soda, please?”

Gigi handed me the can rather roughly and then turned away. I opened it and raised it to her. “Thank you,” I sighed after a quick swig.

With hope in her eyes again, Gigi turned to me, “Do you wanna dance?”

I stood up away from the bar and raised the can again, “Not with a drink in my hand. Well, anyway, see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later,” Gigi responded in a flat tone as I walked away.

I felt really bad about insulting Gigi. After all, the girl had done nothing wrong besides handing beers to everyone at the party. She was just trying to flirt with me a bit, even if it was a bit forced. I wondered if I should at least go back and apologize to her. But when I turned around, I realized she was already leaning across the counter speaking with another guy who appeared more interested in her wiles. I didn’t feel so bad anymore. So I retreated back outside.

Only this time, I retreated to the front yard so that I would be the first to know when the police come or when the party host decided it was time to throw Wes out of the house. I should be ready for whatever event comes first. So I sat underneath a palm tree in the middle of the estate, sipped my coke, and waited for Wes to reappear outside.

After five minutes, I grew bored; I checked my watch. It was one just eleven. Irritated, I really hoped that Wes would get himself outside soon. My eyes were starting to become heavy with the want of sleep.

And very shortly after I decided to let myself take a quick nap, I feel back into the past. The past where I was six years old and was waiting impatiently at my father’s office.

I remembering waiting just outside Daddy’s office, in the big waiting room area that overlooked Miami. I was supposed to be waiting for my nanny to come pick me up from the office since she had forgotten me at school on account of car problems. Twiddling my thumbs, I sat solemnly on a hard leather couch. My dad was on the phone in his office, shouting so loudly that we could hear it through the walls. He yelled in French, so I thought it had something to do with the chef of the hotel who had served me very tasty grilled cheese for lunch.

Sighing, because I did not like the sound of Daddy yelling, I shuffled over to the secretary, a kind, thin woman with really huge hair. I knew she loved me and could easily help me keep myself entertained. I asked her what needed to be done.

She looked down at me and then handed me a huge bundle of papers, “Can you shred these for me?” She asked as she pulled out the shredding machine from behind another desk, “I’ll pay you with a lollipop.”

“Make it two lollipops, and you have yourself a deal,” I challenged.

She smiled, “Alright, but no more than two. What would your nanny say if I let you have too many sweets?”

“She’d hate you,” I replied simply, not thinking of the kind of hurt that my comment could have made. I ran over to the shredding machine and turned it on. I fed the paper into the mouth and pretended that I was feeding a very hungry dragon and that I needed to be careful not to let it eat my own fingers. Letting my imagination get away with me, it was very easy for me to finish that project.

Soon enough, I was running back to the secretary’s desk, demanding my lollipops. She smiled as I admitted that I was done with much pride. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out two lollipops and presented them to me.

“Thank you,” I said as I tore off the wax paper of one and popped it in my mouth. I handed the other lollipop back to the secretary, “This one is for you. I want you to also share in my pay.”

The secretary bent down and patted me on the head and took the lollipop. “Thank you, Damon; you are such a sweet child. Someday, you will make a very dashing and fine man. Any lady will be lucky to have you…”

Bringing myself back to reality, I laughed at the quick dream. I remember most of the scenes from the actual time I visited my father’s office. However, there were parts of the dream that I thought I might have made up as time continued on. But what the secretary had said to me, that was real.

Any lady will be lucky to have me? Bullshit, I snapped bitterly, it seemed like all the girls believed they’d be lucky. Every one of them thinks that they’re the one that will last, but in the end, none of them do. And to me that never seemed much like luck, so my father’s secretary was wrong. No one’s lucky where I’m involved.

I twisted my empty soda can in my hands. It crumbled and I threw it back towards the house. Considering all the alcohol, I was pretty sure that the host’s party wouldn’t mind one mangled can of soda littered on their property.

Rechecking my watch, I noticed only ten minutes had gone by. I was getting really impatient. So impatient that I was wondering if I should go back into the party just to find Wes.
However, I would have needed an excuse as to why we had to leave early. While I could make up some lie for others about how my parents will flip out if I don’t make curfew, Wes knew all my secrets about my parents.

Like that every since my father’s hotel received its fifth star, mother and father virtually left my life to play out on its own and be ignored. My parents right now were probably preoccupied in some casinos somewhere, I thought bitterly. I couldn’t use them as an excuse.

Shouts from inside the house very suddenly became the blessing I was looking for. There was a crash of glass and someone was thrown out the door and onto the lawn in front of me. It took me a second to realize it was Wes stumbling around, although I was hardly surprised.

“Wes!” I ran over to him, catching him as he staggered drunkenly, towards the house, “Why does this always happen? What was it this time?”

He laughed obnoxiously, alcoholic breath poisoning the air, “I was making out with this chick…and her boyfriend came over and he was like…huge! My face hurts now.” Wes demonstrated the height of the guy.

“Well, that’s it,” I used the accident to my advantage, “We’re going home,” I said sternly; “We don’t need to get you into a fight that will knock you out for a good ten years.”

I steered Wes back towards my car. Nearly as soon as I got him in the back seat, he was passed out. Grimly, I rolled my eyes, hopped into my own seat, and drove away from the house. This was nothing unusual; in fact, it was almost a habit of Wes and mine. Wes would get in over his head, pas out, and I’d drive him back to my place. At least, this time, he had all his clothes on and he wasn’t puking his guts out.

After a half an hour, I heard movement in the backseat. I glanced at Wes in the rearview mirror. He was attempting to sit up.

“We…gotta…find you…the right…girl! You…hiccup don’t know…hiccup…what you’re missing.” He slurred his words with the occasional hiccup and then fell back into the seat.

I focused my attention to the winding road that led back to my suburban house; I tried not to let my mind wander. It didn’t work.

I saw images that almost always haunted my days. I saw images of couples, real couples.
Holding hands, kissing, and actually sharing a bond that went deeper than a physical connection. I had begun to realize that only normal guys managed to get away with having real relationships with girls. Guys like me and Wes, we were the ones classified as being “up there” along with Hugh Heffner. I was jealous of the guys who understood what it was like to just be appreciated as a person and not as a sex toy.

Wes murmured from the back again, “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Shut up,” I responded to his sleeping form.

Gritting my teeth, I knew he was right, but just not in the way he meant it.